Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Uzbekistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Juan Atkins to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
Jawbox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yusef Lateef,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
E-Dancer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Almond,
Blancmange,
Sound Behaviour,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Holt,
Peter and Kerry,
Banda Bassotti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
The United States of America,
Barrington Levy,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
Radiohead,
The Victims,
Lalo Schifrin,
Buzzcocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Alison Limerick,
Television Personalities,
Thee Headcoats,
Susan Cadogan,
Idris Muhammad,
Cheater Slicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Starr,
A Certain Ratio,
Mandrill,
Jacob Miller,
Royal Trux,
F. McDonald,
Minny Pops,
Wally Richardson,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.